Waiting for Her
by populardarling
Summary: Peeta Mellark is growing impatient waiting for the future Mrs. Mellark, but good things come to those who wait. AU Modern Katniss/Peeta. Inspired by How I Met Your Mother.
1. Waiting

**Hello there! So while I've been trying to write the next chapter of _Landers, _I got this idea from watching my favorite TV show, _How I Met Your Mother_. Ever since I saw a post on Tumblr joking about Peeta telling his kids how he met their mother, I've been wanting to read a fic along those lines, but could never find one. So I decided to write one instead! It's not 100% like the show because I found it difficult to incorporate the past/present/future thing, but I did add similar elements to it that if you're a fan of the show I hope you spot! **

**I had a blast writing this light piece, and I hope you all enjoy and please tell me what you think! **

* * *

"So how'd the date go?" Johanna asks when I walk through the door to our apartment.

I grimace, already trying to forget Crazy Sarah whom I've already deemed Foxface to erase the horrid memory from my mind, and head for the fridge for a beer. Never again will I let Gale hook me up with someone. Never again.

"That bad, huh?"

I take a long sip before replying, "You have no idea."

She howls from the couch in laughter, skimming through some gun-nut magazine. "Well, hang in there! Maybe the next date will go better, loverboy." I push her feet off the coffee table with my legs and plop down next to her, taking another long sip of my good ol' friend, Miller Lite.

"There isn't going to _be _a next date, Jo. She's not the one." I turn on the TV and start flipping through the channels, but all I can think about is Foxface. I shudder again at the thought of her. Worst. Date. _Ever._

"What exactly happened?"

"She has a lot of cats," I explain.

"And?" Johanna prompts, motioning with her hand to continue. "Cats aren't a bad thing; you love animals."

"She dresses them up, makes movies of them, takes pictures of them, Jo. Then, during dinner, she pulled out a _scrap_book of them and began to _cry_ at how much she loves them." I take another sip to drown out the memory. "I should have known Gale would send me the crazy type." Never again.

Her booming laughter lightens my mood a little but not by much. "Is it really too much to ask for one decent girl to go out with?" I ask. "Is there not one single girl out there who doesn't have a weird addiction or fault?"

"Maybe your standards are a _little_ too high," she says, 100% serious this time. "Poor future Mrs. Mellark is busting a hip trying to gain the title."

I have to laugh at that, and I do, because I am thankful for Jo's commentary. It's not exactly what I want to hear, but it helps.

"I just can't help thinking I'm going to be alone forever," I confess, finishing off my beer in less than five sips. New record. The guys will be so proud. "I'm going to be turning twenty-eight soon. _Twenty-eight,_" I stress. "My parents _had _me when they were twenty-eight, and I'm the baby!"

For once Johanna is sympathetic and tells me to hang in there. "She's coming, Peet. She's coming."

I hate being whiny, especially since I know Johanna is going through her own relationship issues with Gale, but I just can't help it. It's hard being the only single guy in the group, and it's hard going on these blind dates in hopes of finding "the one" only to be left with scarring memories instead. "What if She's not, Jo? What if the future Mrs. Mellark doesn't exist, that I'm meant to live my pathetic life alone?"

Johanna takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, making me believe she's going to say something deep and meaningful to make me feel better about my so called love life, but instead: "Do you want to have sex to take the edge off?"

To know she's every bit as serious as the look she's giving makes me laugh until I'm crying. I wipe a tear from my eye and get up to get another beer, again so grateful Johanna is my roommate. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

"It's been so long," she says, tossing her magazine on the table, "that I think I'm getting blue vagina."

"Stick a microwave in there to warm it up," I joke, handing her a beer.

"There's only one thing I want stuck up there and it ain't no microwave." We make cheers to that and end up watching reruns of _Friends_ for the rest of the night.

* * *

"She's really sweet, and smart, and pretty," Annie continues, listing off the reasons I should go out with her co-worker. "And she loves to cook! Peeta, she's the perfect girl for you."

Taking a handful of nuts from the basket on our table, I consider her offering. "I don't know, Annie," I start, planning on declining her generous offer. "It's only been a month since I broke up with Madge."

Madge Undersee, the girl I thought was the perfect woman for me. Not only did we have the same interests in books, but she was a baker, just like me, and didn't mind the cheesy baking jokes I'd make despite the gang rolling their eyes at how bad they were. She was pretty, a blonde, with the sweetest smile. Her laughter made everything okay, and I was planning on marrying her since the moment we met. Well, that is, until the ex came back and they eloped, leaving me behind with a pathetic sticky note saying how sorry she was.

"It's too soon. I'm not ready"

Her soft hand finds its way through mine and she gives it a gentle squeeze. "Everyone needs that special push. Just look at Finnick." We both look toward the bar at my best friend, getting the pitcher of beer for us, and she has a point. Finnick used to be a total ladies man before we met Annie our senior year in college. She had somehow tricked him into having one date with her and before either knew it, they were married.

I sigh, turning back in my seat. "I suppose." I bite my thumbnail for a moment in thought. "I'm just tired of waiting."

"We all have to wait," Annie teases, scooting over for Finnick to sit next to her.

"Wait for what?" the bronzed haired man asks, setting down the pitcher and glasses, sitting next to his wife. "The beer?" he jokes. "You two need to learn to be more patient or get it yourself!"

Shaking my head at his horrible attempt to be funny, I pour myself a glass. Maybe Annie has a point. Maybe I do need that push in order to find _Her_. I watch two of my best friends giggling, holding each other's hand like school children in love, and I want that. I want to do something silly and lovey-dovey with someone. I want to make a fool out of myself in front of my friends.

I take a small sip of the cool Miller Lite, my only love at the moment. If only _She_ would come sooner. Who knows, I think, this Delly chick may be the right one. Annie did say how much we had in common, and it wouldn't hurt to go on _one _date now would it?

"You know what, Annie?" I decide, interrupting their couple moment. "Sign me up. Tell this girl I'd love to go on a date with her."

Annie's 100 watt smile shines. "You're going to _love _Delly. I swear on Finnick's dead green suede suit."

Finnick is insulted. "Hon, I'm still mourning over that."

* * *

"You don't _need _to get married, Peeta," Gale tells me after a few shots knocked back at our usual bar. "People shouldn't even _get_ married. It goes against everything I believe in."

I smile, feeling the few jello-shots I had start to sink in. "I didn't know they allowed you in church, Gale."

We laugh, loud and proud at how beautiful single life is, and take another shot.

I drunkenly regret going out with him. Tomorrow's hangover's going to be the worst, but when in doubt about life issues, Gale always seems to be the person to go to. I toss back another shot and shout out, "Mmm! Fruity!"

We roar with laughter now, not even sure why the hell we're laughing to begin with, before stumbling out of our seats to get more to drink. Sure, I'll regret it, but man, am I having a great time. Who needs girls, anyway? Gale sure doesn't and he's doing just fine.

"Girls," Gale slurs, putting his hand on my shoulder for one of his life lessons, "are just a distraction from the real fight." He sure talks a lot when drunk.

"What's the real fight?"

"Surviving," he explains with as much sternness as he can muster under the shots. "The world's a cruel, cruel place, my man, and it eats up the weak, only spitting out the strong." Gale flexes one of his biceps at me and I laugh.

I laugh so hard I fall down on my drunken ass, spilling the beer all over myself. Why am I drinking? Everyone knows I'm a lightweight. Gale helps me up, proving once again how strong he is, and I give him a hug, telling him I love him.

"Whoa whoa whoa, Peeta," he chuckles, sitting me down on a bar stool. "_Love _is a distraction from the fight. Not just girls."

In my drunken haze I ignore him as I glance around the bar, smiling at how happy everyone seems to be in. Bars are great. They bring people together. They bring pretty girls in here. Speaking of, I spot a very pretty girl at nine o'clock.

"See that girl?" I tell Gale, pointing in her direction. He glances behind him, nodding, and asks what about her? "I'm going to talk to her."

"Remember," he urges, slapping me on the back in encouragement, "no falling in love! Remember the fight!"

I nod in agreement and stumble my way over to her. She's really pretty, with her dark black hair in that braid, and I just want to ask if I can touch it.

"Hey," I smile seductively, lowering my voice to appear more masculine. I lean against the bar, hoping my own biceps will impress her.

She doesn't seem too impressed with that scowl, though. "Can I help you?"

Grinning like the drunk idiot that I am, I motion for Greg, the bartender, to get us two beers. "It's not every day I see a really pretty girl like yourself." I wiggle my eyebrows for the added effect.

The girl's scowl deepens and she gets up with her purse. "I gotta go," she says, trying to move out of my way. I stop her and ask for at least her name.

"I need to know the name of the girl who's breaking my heart."

She hesitates and tells me it's Britney, but everyone calls her Clove. I like Clove. That's a really lucky name.

I convince her to stay a bit longer. Might as well enjoy a free beer, right? And she stays for six more.

I don't remember much the next morning, but I do wonder why the hell there's a loaf of bread sitting next to me in bed.

* * *

"We just found a house in the suburbs today," Annie and Finnick announce while the rest of us are drinking our stressful days at work away.

A house. Huh. How domestic of them.

"That's great!" Johanna exclaims, giving Annie a hug. "I'm so happy for you!" Annie is probably the _only _person Johanna would be so girly toward.

"Congrats," Gale mutters, holding his beer up to show his congratulations.

I don't say anything. I watch my friends, being all happy for one another. I'm happy for them, sure, but I can't help realizing how _in _time they are with their lives⎯ getting married, buying a house, probably having kids soon⎯ and how _behind _I am with own my life. What am I even _doing_? I'm thirty-one, still single, and living with my ex-now-turned best friend. This is not how eighteen year old Peeta Mellark saw his life at all.

What are Finnick and Annie doing right that I'm not? How did they get so lucky as to finding each other that one fateful day on the beach?

I think back on all the countless women I have dated over the years, wondering if any of them could have been "the one."

I thought Madge Undersee was "the one" until she left me for her ex-boyfriend.

I thought Effie Trinket was "the one" until she admitted she had a weird fetish for old men.

I thought Delly Cartwright was "the one" until I realized her sweetness deterred her common sense.

And I used to think Johanna Mason was "the one" until we both realized we were far too different to want the same things in life.

There are so many more I could add to my list, but really, why does it matter? I broke up with all of them for a reason, right?

Maybe Johanna was right all those years ago. Maybe my standards _are_ too high. What if the future Mrs. Mellark has already snuck up under my nose and I never even noticed because she's so different from what I imagined my future wife to be like?

I take another sip of beer and wonder how my life could get more "on track."

But to get "on track" I need _Her. _I can't have the wife, the children, the house without _Her_. If only I knew who _Her _was this would make my small life crisis a lot easier to handle.

"Congratulations," I say, holding my now empty bottle up. "I know you two've been waiting a long time to find the perfect home."

Finnick laughs his bright, boisterous laugh and clinks his bottle with mine. "Cheers, my friend! We've waited years, but now the bank's gonna finally give it to us!"

They've waited for a house.

Johanna's waited for a good group of friends.

Gale's waited for his dream job.

And I continue to wait for _Her._

I order another beer, being told I have to wait a few minutes because it's happy hour.

It seems all we do in life is wait.

* * *

I never thought I'd live to see the day Johanna Mason and Gale Hawthorne tied the knot, but I guess life needs a little spontaneity somewhere.

The reception is loud, crowded, with music blasting from the DJ's stereos at a level I wonder is even safe for our ears. No one seems to mind, though, especially not the bride and groom who I know are a little high from the weed break we took after their vows.

I spot Annie and Finnick across the room and wave to them. They wave back, laughing and pointing at how absurd everyone is dancing before their attention is pulled back to their two year old son, Adrian. They seem happy and a little drunk on Finnick's part, but that's to be expected at best friends' weddings.

I need to be drunk, I sigh, taking another sip of champagne. I love weddings. They're always this beautiful moment for a couple to show the world how in love they truly are. But after all the weddings I've attended, all the weddings I've catered to, nothing changes the fact that I still haven't had my own wedding to celebrate. I haven't had my own special moment where I see _Her _walking down the aisle towards me only to have my breath taken away. I haven't had any of the moments my friends have had, and damn it, I want to.

Is that so hard to ask?

I finish my glass and set it down on the nearest table before heading outside for a much needed breath of fresh air. I need to clear my head of all these depressing thoughts. I should be happy for Johanna and Gale. I should. Really.

I pull out a cigarette, a bad habit I had picked up in college when things got too crazy in my life, and light.

It's a cold March night and even in my dress coat I'm shaking, but anything has to be better than going back into that hot room right now. I suck it up, bringing my shaking hand to my mouth, the taste of nicotine already soothing my thoughts.

A crash is heard from behind me as one of Johanna's bridesmaids stumbles out of the door, laughing her ass off at something.

I try to ignore her because I'm really in no mood for handling the drunk tonight, but she spots me and stumbles over, her walk even more strange with wearing only one of her high heeled shoes.

"Hi there," she laughs, putting her hand on my shoulder for some balance.

I straighten my back, trying to remain impassive, but I can't help noticing how pretty she is, how her tiny hand is touching my shoulder. I clear my throat, continuing minding my own business.

"Mind if I bum one?" she asks, reaching already for my cigarette. Putting it in her mouth, she smiles, inhaling all the deliciously bad nicotine and exhaling little puffs of smoke. "Man, I needed that," she blows in content.

"Excuse me." I pull it back from her, not wanting to share with this strange woman. Seriously, not in the mood for this.

"You look familiar," the bridesmaid points out, moving in front of me for a better view. "Do you bake?"

This is getting rather awkward. "I do," I allow. How the hell does this chick know what I do for a living?

"You make those cakes for our office parties, don't you?" she shouts a little too loudly for my taste.

"Maybe we should get you inside," I offer, trying to pull her toward the door again. She slaps my hand away and smiles the prettiest smile I have ever seen. It even puts Annie's 100 watt smile to shame.

"You _are_! I've been waiting _forever_ to tell you how much I love your cakes," she explains, leaning on me again so she can take off her other shoe. "But you seem to leave _every_ time I leave my office to get some of that damn cake." Her shoe comes off and she points it directly at me. "And those _cheese buns!" _Her head shakes in disbelief. "I think I gained like 15 pounds eating those damn things."

I try to smile, hide my discomfort this girl is causing me, but I can't help asking how the hell she knows my _face_ to connect it with my _food. _

"How do you know I'm that guy?"

That seems to stump her for a minute. "I can't remember," she confesses, twirling her heel in her hands. "I guess a girl just knows these sort of things."

"Look, I should _really_ get going..." I start, pointing back inside. "People are waiting, and it's getting really cold out here, and well, I don't want to miss any cake⎯"

She interrupts me, pulling me back toward her with more strength than I originally gave her credit for. "Did you make that cake?"

This girl seems to have what Gale likes to call Crazy Eyes, and I know for a fact that's my time to split.

"I did, and I would love to see my friends cut it and eat it."

Her grip strengthens. "What's your name?"

"Peeta Mellark," I gulp, wondering what this crazy girl's going to do to me.

She lets go of me and beams the biggest smile, a bit of the Crazy Eyes gone thankfully. "It's nice to meet you, Peeta Mellark. I'm Katniss Everdeen." We shake hands and I'm reminded at just how pretty she is when her face lights up like that.

"Nice to meet you," I mutter, shaking her hand awkwardly. "Now, if you'll just excu⎯"

Katniss links her arm through mine, still stumbling in her intoxicated state, and says, "Now hold on there just a minute, Peeta Mellark. I've been waiting a _long_ damn time to meet you, and I expect you to like me so much that you'll make me those cheese buns from now on because I can't bake worth a damn."

And just like that she pulls me back into the party to try some of the cake she's been waiting forever on.


	2. The Talk

**So this just proves I'm never meant to write one-shots because I always get away with myself and end up writing 50 pages for a story. I decided to continue this because it's light and I need that compared to the other things I'm writing about. I also just enjoy writing the characters in this type of setting and wanted to continue doing that. **

**I can't promise how long this story will be, but I'm estimating maybe around seven to eight chapters total. I want to go through Katniss and Peeta's relationship and the trials and errors that occur with being together as couple. **

**Also, I'm considering moving this story to M because it does have mention of sexual content, but I'm not entirely sure yet. Thoughts?**

**I want to send love to all those who have sent the wonderful reviews (I was falling out of my bed whenever I got a new notice!), have favorited it, and those who even had a feeling I would cave and continue with this deciding to follow it. You are all wonderful people, and I dedicate this chapter to all of you. **

**I hope you enjoy, and please tell me what you think because it really does make my day and encourage me to write/post faster. **

**Enjoy, Terri**

* * *

"I have to break up with her," I announce to my friends that night at the bar after my ninth date with Katniss. "She's not the one." The entire table starts to argue how this has to be the dumbest thing I could possibly do. "She's not the one!" I defend.

Finnick quiets the group down and looks me pointedly in the eyes. "Alright, buddy, as your best friend, I'm going to say this with as much love as I possibly can, okay?"

"Okay."

He takes a deep breath in and shouts, "You're being an idiot, Peeta! What's the matter with you?" The gang throws in their agreements, but I just don't see why they're being so anal about this.

Sure, when I first met Katniss things were great- weird and unusual given how we met, but great nonetheless. She seemed to be someone who I could joke around with, make out with, spend time with, but there was a problem that I just couldn't get past.

"So what's the problem?" Johanna asks, stealing a french fry off my plate.

"She doesn't want to get married." I take a bite out of my burger as I let the information sink in. There is no way they're going to be against me with that bit of news, and I refuse to back down on this. "I can't waste my time with a girl who doesn't want the same things as me. Not again."

"Ouch, Peet," Johanna mocks, holding her hand to her heart. "That one hurt."

I roll my eyes. "You know what I mean."

Finnick and Annie look at each other, doing that weird mind reading thing they always seem to do when debating something before asking, "Did you ask her why?"

I pause, my burger midway to my mouth. Huh. I guess when it was brought up I never did ask what her reasons were. It was pretty hard to get past the whole "SHE'S NOT THE ONE! REPEAT! NOT THE ONE! ABORT! ABORT!" blasting over and over in my head.

"See?" Annie scolds, hitting my hand like she's my mother. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?" I snap.

"You're finding an excuse to break up with the girl." Finnick and Johanna nod their heads, muttering their agreements.

I look to Gale, my friend, my confidant, for some help. He has to understand where I'm coming from, right? Fight the fight, he told me. Stay out of love. There is no possible way⎯

"I'm with Annie," Gale sides, pointing his beer bottle toward the brunette. "Peeta, trust me when I say Katniss is different."

I roll my eyes, feeling utterly alone now. No shit, Gale. No shit she's different. How many times did _you_ ever meet a drunken girl at a wedding, have her recognize you off some cheese buns you make, sleep with her yet _not _sleep with her that night, and go on a few random dates? I think back to all the shit we used to do in our twenties and don't want to know the answer. No self respecting human would want to account for our messed up twenties.

"She's great," I start.

"_But_?" Annie presses.

"But she's not into the same commitment plans that I want; but she's a _hunter_, which means she _kills; _but⎯" Johanna interrupts me with a hard slap to the head. I wince, rubbing the sore spot. "She's not what I'm looking for is all."

"You sure sounded like she was the one last night when she had you climaxing," Gale said, raising his eyebrows suggestively and thrusting a bit into the table. Johanna snickered, giving him a high five in agreement.

"'Oooooh, Katniss!'" Gale imitates in a voice an octave higher than his own, making the most ridiculous orgasm face ever. "'Harder! Harder!'" he laughs.

"Eee-ooo! Eee-ooo! Eee-ooo!" Johanna joins, making the sounds of my bed and making inappropriate hand gestures with her mouth.

The whole table is now laughing and Finnick asks if they heard any kinky games being played.

"Ha ha ha," I deadpan, glaring at my two temporary roommates."You two _really_ need to get your apartment fixed."

Still laughing, Johanna slaps my face affectionately. "We tease because we love you, loverboy."

Back to the matter... "So what am I going to do?" I look to each one of my dearest friends, hoping they would give me the advice I needed to break up with this crazy girl. "She has to go."

Rubbing the little stubble Finnick seems to be trying to grow, he leans forward, elbows on the table, and gives me a small smile. "I know she's different, Peeta." I'm about to cut him off, pointing out how we've already established this, but he shushes me. "I know she's different," he continues, "but I think you two need to _really _talk about this."

"And not be a little chicken running featherless through a meadow," Annie pipes in. We all give a pause at this. Even Finnick, who lives with her, gives her a questioning look. "What?" she asks, taking a sip of her beer. "It makes sense to me."

With another slight pause to try to make sense of it again, Johanna joins in, "I think what Annie is trying to say is that you need to have The Talk, and that stripping and having sex is _not_ a great alternative to it."

"You don't see me complaining," Gale mutters, taking a sip of Miller Lite.

She smacks his arm, still looking at me. "I know Katniss," Johanna continues. "She's had a rough time in the Love Department, but trust me when I tell you that you two are _really good for each other. _You may not see it, but it's there. So have The Talk, Peeta. Don't be an ass until you have The Talk."

"Fine," I sigh, throwing my hands up in defeat. "Fine! I'll have The Talk with her first."

* * *

It takes a few days⎯ and a few drinks⎯ before I finally have the courage to bring up the dreaded Talk with Katniss. It has to be just right, though, because she's not one for serious talk of the future, and well, she's really _really_ good at distractions whenever serious talk does come up.

"Hey Katniss," I start, sitting up in my bed as she searches the floor for her discarded shirt. "Have you ever, oh, I don't know, thought about us?" I twiddle my thumbs idly, trying to make it seem like none of this is a big deal.

I should just break up with her. It'd be a whole lot easier on us both.

"I was thinking about us a lot a few minutes ago," she jokes, finding her crumpled cami and pulling it on.

This isn't fair. _Don't look at her,_ I scold. Don't look at her perky and wonderfully sculpted breasts. _Don't._

"No," I breathe, trying to remain controlled, focused. "Like, a relationship." I look up at her and smile bashfully. "Boyfriend girlfriend. The works."

It's obvious I've caught her off guard. She searches my tiny room for a second, trying to find words to my question, when she pulls her cami back off and crawls back into bed with me.

No.

Hell no.

I can't. _Think_.

Katniss takes a hold of my now noodle-boned hands and places them on those marvelously sculpted boobs of hers, whispering, "I don't have to be at work for another two hours..." Oh no. Not the lips.

Her lips find my neck and all my senses are clouded with that scent of earth she always manages to capture. God her lips are really soft. What were we even talking about? It's far too early for thinking this much. Her mouth descends down and I let out a low groan of pleasure. _God,_ Katniss is not a fair player; she plays dirty. Playing with a guy's balls like this when he's trying to have a serious conversation just isn't⎯ _oh. _That's nice. I like her lips down there.

_You need to have The Talk, _Johanna's voice criticizes in my head._ Stripping and having sex is not a great alternative to it._

She's right.

I have to do this, get it over with.

Sucking in as much breath as I could, I roll us over so I'm now on top of her, holding her hands captive above her head because I don't trust them one bit. We are going to have this talk, and goddamn it, it's going to be right now.

"Are we dating?" I ask again, forcing her hands down when she tries to break free. "Katniss," I beg, "I'm serious. I need to know if we're dating or not."

She lays there, hair sprawled across my pillow in a tangled mess, studying me with those beady grey eyes of hers.

"Well?"

"I thought we already had The Talk during dinner that one time." She pulls her wrist from my grip, mood obviously gone, and pushes me off, pulling my sheet up to cover her. "I told you I didn't want to get married and you ordered the chicken. Remember?"

I sit on my knees, wondering how to proceed from here. I've never gotten this far with The Talk before. Do I just tell her that I want a wife and kids? Or do we just pretend I never interrupted the soon-to-be sex and continue on?

I like the latter.

We both know what to do with the latter option, and it seems like a lot more fun than arguing.

I lean in and give her a soft kiss on the lips. "Forget it," I mutter, running my hands up and down her arms to get her back in the mood. "We'll talk about it later."

"No," Katniss breathes, pushing me away again. "You want to talk, so talk. I don't want to get married."

"I do," I sigh, falling back on my ass. "I want the whole wife and kids thing."

"And I don't." She says it so matter-of-fact that a little part of me wants to cries. Breaking up with her was probably always going to be the plan, but I can't help but feel that she's just meant to be in my life. Like destiny, or fate.

"Why not?" I clear my throat, trying not to sound so judgmental. "Why not?" I ask again in a calmer voice.

Playing with my sheet, Katniss bites her lip in thought. It's an adorable image, and I wish I wasn't so lazy to go get my sketch pad to draw it. Focus, Peeta. Focus.

She breathes in a deep breath, preparing for whatever news she needs to tell me, and I brace myself for the worst. "I was," she says, slowly, deliberately, "I was married before."

I wasn't expecting that.

"Oh." I look out the window in shock, giving her time to think over what to say. Wow. Married. This is starting to bring up some sore subjects.

"I was young. And stupid," Katniss explains. "And we both thought it'd be great, but it wasn't." I break my attention from the window, bringing it back to her, and I reach over to take her hand before it busied a hole into my sheet. "It was a terrible and stupid mistake, and I regret every second of it."

"Did something..._happen_?" I can't imagine anyone getting away with hitting her, but god, what could it be that makes a person swear off all types of romantic commitment?

"He had a gambling problem and gambled all our money away," she tells me, her voice growing dark with hate. "Then the _ass_hole has the right to _leave _me for some...some..._floozy_ at the casino. Forcing me to handle all the debt he put us in by myself."

Again. Wow.

We let her confession on why she doesn't want to get married or commit to me settle in, and really, I'm not sure what to say. Which is odd given I normally have _something _to say. I kiss her knuckles instead, a soft peck for each one.

"And that's why I don't want to get married again," Katniss sighs, closing her eyes and leaning back against my headboard. "I trusted Mitchell and he broke that trust."

"But he's an ass and I'm just me," I say, trying to bring that pretty smile I love so much back. Ever since meeting her that night of Gale and Johanna's wedding, I've noticed the only times Katniss ever smiles is if she's drunk (more likely) or teasingly insulting someone (less likely). So whenever I am able to make her smile, it's a reward for me.

She cracks a small smile. "That is true, but I think one bad marriage is enough to last a life time."

I weave my hand through hers, giving it another kiss. I could kiss her all day if it would make her happy. "No one says we have to get married _now_," I humor. "I just wanted to let you know that when it comes to the relationship I'm looking for, I'm looking for a serious one. I'm _ready _for a serious relationship."

I should probably bring up the fact that just a few short days ago I was planning on breaking up with her without bothering with The Talk, but the way our hands link, the way her lips are curved in that small smile, well, that just makes me want to stay with her. Possibly forever, but who am I to tell?

She licks her chapped lips, staring down at our linked hands, and I wonder what's going through her head. Maybe she had the same idea of a breakup like I did? A cold knife plunges into my stomach at the thought of her wanting to break up now.

"I'm bad at them," Katniss admits, scrunching her face up in embarrassment.

Not being able to help myself, I crawl toward her and give her freckled nose a kiss. "Well, I don't have a clean track record either. So it's fine." I'm straddling her now, linking her other hand with mine and lifting both set of hands up over our heads. "We'll try this thing first, see where it goes, and if it ends up getting married, so be it."

"I highly doubt that," Katniss argues. "All relationships expire sooner or later."

"I'm pretty sure my food will keep you here for awhile," I joke. "It _is _why we started talking after all."

Her laughter is like music to my ears, low, deep, and rich. "I was drunk off my ass that night."

"_Trust _me, I remember." I pull her towards me, falling on my back so she's on top. "Let's try, okay?" I kiss the inside of her wrist, breathe in the earthly scent that is just _Katniss _and it grounds me_. _

"Okay," she agrees, smiling down at me, her loose hair tickling my nose. "I'll _try_, but I make no guarantees on how great of a girlfriend I'll be."


	3. Compromise

**Hello everyone,**

**I just wanted to say how much I appreciate all the wonderful reviews I've gotten (I jump up like an idiot each time- ask any of my friends) and the favoritting/alerting this story has gotten! You are all so wonderful! **

**I decided to keep this T and just give warning for anything too mature, and that this story is now outlined for exactly 9 to 10 chapters depending on something I haven't fully decided on. So I thought I'd let you all know that. :) **

**Read, enjoy, review!  
**

**~Terri**

* * *

Being in a relationship with Katniss is _not _easy, and even though she makes me want to pull my hair out a lot and curse profusely under the burning sun, it's always worth it when she just lets go, relaxes and has fun. She has her carefree moments where she'll not second guess herself and just _do_. It's in these moments when I see her personality shine, making me fall for her harder than I thought I ever would.

It's too bad those days have been rare lately.

Stress from both our jobs has been getting to us, making us more irritable than usual. One slight step from either avalanches into a full blown fight leaving me wondering if this was the _It _fight that would end us for good. It's not like I _tried _to get into fights with her, it's just that Katniss is stubborn in her ways, and before I met her, I never realized I was also just as stubborn when it came to certain things such as how to clean dishes, or fold laundry. We each have our own way of seeing things and refuse to compromise, which often leads to loud arguments and calls from my landlord.

"I don't get it," I tell Finnick over the phone at work. "Was it always this hard for you and Annie?"

My friend laughs, thinking this whole thing is cute. _Probably because Annie and him hardly _ever_ fight_, I think to myself begrudgingly. And it's true. Finnick and Annie have the prodigy relationship. Their relationship puts everyone else's to shame, and everyone else should look to them for guidance on how to be in The Perfect Couple. Finnick and Annie hardly ever fight; they are constantly having sex (And aren't afraid of mentioning it); they laugh about things; they joke around in good fun; and they have been together for over a decade now⎯ putting a lot of celebrity marriages to shame. Being one who aspires to have a similar relationship, it's no surprise I've been turning to my best friend of sixteen years for my relationship problems. If it's anyone who knows how to be in the perfect relationship it's Finnick.

"All relationships are different, Peet, and all _people _are different in them."

"So what am I doing wrong?"

"Well, from the sounds of it, it doesn't sound like you two are listening to each other."

He has a point. If Katniss doesn't want to do something, or hear something, she puts it off which annoys _me_ because I'm a problem solver and want to get it solved _now. _She would try to explain why she wants it a certain way and I'd try to explain why I want it a certain way, both of us refusing to back down- that's really how all our big fights start out.

Like the current one we're having.

She's short on rent and I suggested that we move in together.

"We've been dating for almost six months now," I had reasoned over dinner when she told me. "What's the point paying two full rents when we can just split one?"

That got me a long lecture on how she didn't need my charity and I started fighting back on how she never lets me do anything nice for her, causing her to storm out mid-dinner in a huff.

"I don't know what to do," I complain, twirling around on the stool in my office. "Sure, the makeup sex is great, but we keep arguing. Aren't relationships supposed to be easy if it's the right person?"

"You're going through a rough patch," Finnick eases. "All couples go through it, trust me. The honeymoon period is over, my friend. Now comes the hard stuff."

Rubbing my forehead with my thumb and index finger, I sigh, not knowing what to do. I've been through the rough patch with girls before, but Katniss is different from past girlfriends. She's not fake or girly. She's real, challenging. Her own person. I feel guilty comparing her with past girlfriends, but my relationships have never lasted through the rough patch. They always ended with either the girl leaving me for another guy, or me leaving with a lame-ass excuse on how "it's not you- it's me" crap.

I really don't want that with Katniss, but...

"Maybe it's time to break things off," I resign. There's no use fighting a losing battle.

"If you give up on this relationship because it's getting a little hard, Peeta," Finnick warns, "I'm going to post the Video. You know, on Youtube. For all to see."

I slit my eyes, daring him to, even though he can't see me on the phone.

"You promised to destroy that."

"And lose that wonderful memory?" Finnick asks, laughing at my embarrassment. "Not a chance."

I make a mental note on searching his house the next time I babysit Adrian. "How do you and Annie make it look so simple?" I ask, truly baffled at how my once Don Juan friend became Mr. Perfect Couple. "Aren't there things that she does that annoy you? Make you _want _to argue?"

"Well _duh_," Finnick says, his tone obviously mocking my seriousness. "I just learned to love her little quirks because I love her. Peeta, you just learn to appreciate those annoying habits because it's what makes her _her." _

That made sense, I guess. There are quite a few things that Katniss does that at first I find annoying but later on grow to find endearing. Like the way she picks up _everything _on the floor with her feet, or how she chews on my pen caps... Okay so maybe the pen cap chewing is still annoying, but her inability to hold her tongue while we watch TV is cute.

"I suppose..." I feel so unconfident that I can't even fake confidence on the damn phone.

"Peeta, remember the Video," Finnick warns again. "Think if Johanna ever saw it, the ridicule..."

I shudder at the thought of Johanna ever finding out about one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. She's not one to just let something like the Video slide under the rug. "You're such an ass," I tell him. Standing up, I let out a tired sigh. "I'll try."

"You better!"

I tell him I'll try harder with Katniss, try to listen more if she'll listen, and hang up.

Finnick's advice isn't very helpful. I still don't know what to do because there's only so much I can take of the fighting.

I sigh again and head out of my office when I hear the bell to the front of the store ring, informing me of a customer.

I go out to see what I can help with when I see Katniss browsing through one of my cake catalogues, waiting for me.

"Katniss." I haven't seen nor spoken with her in almost a week. Not since our last big dinner fight.

"Hey," she says, giving me an apologetic smile. This is new. I'm usually the first one to apologize after a fight. "I thought you might be hungry." She holds up a lunch bag filled with food I'm assuming.

I lift the counter lid up and usher her to my office in the back. She follows, keeping her distance from me I notice. This is going to be one of those lecture lunches, isn't it? Katniss is going to explain why she was right on why we shouldn't move in together, and I'm going to sit there and apologize over and over again at how wrong I was. It's how we always end our arguments- well, the sex truly ends the fighting, at least for that short moment in time. Though this time Katniss is changing the game up a bit by coming to me first.

It isn't until I close the door that she jumps me, smashing her lips onto mine as though her life depended on it. I'm shocked, never used to her initiating something like this, but why question it? My hands support her, placing themselves on her ass, and we crash into the door, her weight on my jelly limbs causing some damage.

"I'm sorry," she breathes, raking her hands through my hair. "I'm sorry I'm stubborn⎯" I nip her neck and she gasps in excitement. "I'm sorry I'm not a nice person⎯" I crush my lips back on hers, needing her to shut up just this _once. _Katniss pulls her face away from mine, gasping for breath, and I hear our hearts beating in synch. "I'm sorry, Peeta," she gasps again, trying to calm her pulse. She gives me one last, longing kiss, putting her all in to the kiss, and making my knees start to buckle under the weight.

I set her down on her feet before I drop her, pulling my shirt that had ridden up down as I try to collect myself, and tell her to take a seat. She does and we both nervously laugh at how disheveled we both appear⎯ her clothes wrinkled, face and neck dotted with marks from my lips, and pieces of hair falling out of her braid; my hair sticking this way and that with my top two buttons ripped open, shirt all wrinkled, face smeared with whatever lipgloss she's wearing. We look ridiculous.

"What brought this on?" I ask, motioning between us. "I thought we were fighting."

"We were," Katniss admits sheepishly, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. She doesn't like to admit she's wrong, and I can't help but feel satisfied I'm not the one who has to cave this time.

"Did something change this past week?"

"Peeta," she huffs, blowing hair out of her face. "Don't make me say it."

Trying to be as innocent as possible, I lean back in my chair, feet on my desk, and smile. I can wait.

She stares at me and I stare at her. Neither wants to be the first to say anything, but this time, this time I refuse to be the first to crack.

"I overreacted," Katniss says at last, rolling her eyes at my growing smile. "I shouldn't have yelled at you, and if it makes you feel any better, my little _sister _yelled at me about how I acted." Ah, poor Primrose, the innocent bystander who has to hear every detail about our fights.

"What'd Prim say?"

Her posture straightens in encouragement by my input. "That we need to talk more, and how you aren't going to...you know, take advantage."

I've never met Prim- she's a special part of Katniss' life that she isn't comfortable sharing fully yet, and that's completely fine by me- but I do hear an awful lot about her. I know she's twenty-six, four years younger than Katniss, engaged, and is going to school to be a doctor. Katniss and Prim are extremely close, and part of me imagines them sitting on the couch, eating popcorn and gossiping about all the embarrassing things I do each night but that seems ridiculous. Katniss doesn't gossip.

When we had first started dating, Katniss explained to me how hard it was for her growing up with two parents who just weren't there and how she had taken on the role of Prim's parent at the age of eleven. According to Katniss, when their dad was dying of cancer and their mother was left in a catatonic state, Katniss made sure her little sister was taken care of, provided for so they wouldn't be forced apart in Foster Care. Prim is Katniss' whole world, and the love I see in her eyes whenever she talks about Prim, a certain spark that lights up her grey eyes, makes me love Katniss even more.

_Whoa. _

Love. In love. Katniss.

Too soon.

"You know I would never do that, Katniss."

She looks down at her lap, playing with her hands, and mutters shyly, "I know." That's good to know that she knows I would never do that. I would never use a woman like her ex-husband did to her. Hell, I still want to punch that jackass who stole all her money for gambling in the face. "Can we pretend I'm not an idiot for awhile? I even made your favorite sandwich." She holds up the lunch bag, reminding me why she had come. "It's probably not as good as anything you'd make, but I just thought..."Katniss is fidgeting in her seat again and this time I can't help but laugh. It's so out of place to see her so vulnerable.

"You're not an idiot," I tell her, knowing now that we were both in the wrong. "You have your reasons on why we shouldn't move in together, and I have to respect that. It's just..." I sigh, trying to find the right words to get across what I want to say. "I _really _care about you." _Might possibly be in love with you_, my mind adds before I shush it. "And I want to help those I _really _care about."

"I know that," Katniss admits. "I'm just not used to..." She sighs, tapping the heels of her palms together. "I'm not used to someone _wanting _to help me. It's all new to me."

"Well get used to it, because I want to make your life as easy as possible. That is," I tease, "if you plan on at _least _letting me pay for dinner every once in awhile."

"We'll see." She smiles a small, innocent smile and I know we're alright again. Finnick was right. We needed to talk this out, to listen to each other, and it worked! With no sex!

"I have some wine in the fridge if you want to pop a bottle open," I offer, already getting up to head to the small mini fridge I kept by my filing cabinets. We need to celebrate getting past this point in our relationship and what better way than with some cheap wine?

Katniss begins taking out our lunch. "I'd like that." I pour her a cup, handing her the red Solo cup (I make a note on getting fancier glasses for future moments like these), and she laughs, saying how she feels like a college student again.

We make a toast to try harder at our relationship and spend the next hour drinking, eating, and giving sloppy kisses on my desk.

Life couldn't get better than this.


	4. Falafel

**Hey everyone,**

**So here's another update, and I think this is probably one of the fluffiest things I've ever written. I'm really pleased with it, even though finding the style was hard because I was trying to use the show's structure of love in it, and obviously that's hard since it's a voice over, but I hope I did it justice! **

**Thank you again for all the lovely reviews, favorites, and alerts! They all mean so much to me, and please don't hesitate to ask me anything! Either in a review, PM, or my tumblr is .com. :) **

**Please tell me what you think because it's always encouraging as a writer! **

**~Terri**

* * *

I never expected to fall in love with her. Hell, I never imagined Katniss Everdeen and I would even see each other again after that fateful night at Gale and Johanna's wedding, but fate has a funny way of giving us what we need when we need it.

For instance, ten years ago, when Finnick Odair and I were college roommates, he would bring home so many girls I lost count. I had asked him once if any of these flings ever became anything, and he laughed at me like I had become a clown, slapped my shoulder affectionately, and told me, "Peet, Finnick Odair does not date. He doesn't do the sappy romantic dates, he doesn't stay in on a Friday night, and let me assure you that he will _never _fall under the trap of the pet names."

I wanted to ask him why he always referred to himself in third person whenever he was giving me a life lesson, but it was Finnick and I found it best never to question him. His life motto on living the single life was foolproof. He knew how to get out of commitments and he knew how to still keep the girls wanting more. I guess Finnick was kind of a jerk in college, at least when it came to girls, but that all changed our senior year of college.

We had decided to go to the closest beach from Penn State, as a bros-sort-of trip, and that was when we met Annie. She had run into Finnick first, demanded he apologize to her because she's a lady, and somehow convinced him to buy her dinner to make up for the emotional scars he had inflicted on her. It was really funny how easily whipped my friend could be when it came to Annie Cresta, and soon, I began to see more of her.

"I think she's the one," Finnick had told me after his fourth date with Annie. "I'm pretty sure she's the one I'm going to marry."

"But what about living the single life?" I retorted, tossing him a beer. "I thought no one could tie down the great Finnick Odair?"

I can still remember the goofy smile he made when he thought about Annie. "I love her, man. I want to spend every day with her." I had never seen my best friend so..._emotional _before. It was cute.

"How do you know?" I had asked, truly curious. "How do you know you're in love with someone, and how do you know you want to spend the rest of your life with her?"

"You'll just know," he told me, shaking his head of all the sappy thoughts I'm sure he was thinking of. She truly had changed my bachelor friend. "You'll just know when you meet her."

Finnick was wrong.

I didn't know I would fall in love with Katniss when I first met her, but as our one year anniversary grew closer, I couldn't help but think how I hoped we'd get to spend hundreds of anniversaries together. The thought scared me. I had never felt that way about a girl before, and especially for one so unconventional as Katniss, but I still couldn't be bothered to care.

I was falling in love with her.

* * *

It didn't start with a certainty.

It started with a possibility. I could _possibly _be in love with Katniss Everdeen, but even that thought scared the living hell out of me. It had been so long since I had felt this possible love for someone, and the last time I had gotten severely hurt from it.

But even with the fear of Katniss leaving me, or hurting me, I couldn't shake the admiration I felt toward her. Her presence made my life exciting, unpredictable, because I never knew what she was going to say, or how she would react.

"Don't you hate those creepy talking baby commercials?" she asks me one night.

I look at her, my right arm slung over her shoulders, and wonder where the hell _that_ came from. The commercials weren't even on.

"What?"

"Those talking baby commercials," she persists. "Don't you think they're creepy, because I sure do."

"What brought this on?"

I feel her shrug. "There was a creepy scene a few minutes ago, and I thought, 'What's creepier than a talking doll?' And talking baby commercials popped up right away. Those are far more creepy than any killer doll." I burst into laughter at her thought process and her skin flushes pink. "It's not funny!" Katniss argues, but I continue laughing until she punches me in the stomach to shut me up so she can hear the movie.

With my sore abdomen, I glance down at the girl wrapped in my arms, and yes, I can see that I'm possibly falling in love with her.

* * *

The possibility of being in love with Katniss Everdeen grows into a certainty. I am certain I am in love with this tough-as-nails girl, but it's still too soon in our relationship to admit anything. She's still new to letting herself open up to me, and I'm still new to feeling any commitment to a girl ever since Madge left me. We're both a mess when it comes to relationships, but I can't imagine relearning how to be in a relationship with anyone else but her.

I'm in love with Katniss Everdeen.

It feels liberating to finally realize it, but the secret stays tucked inside my heart. I'm afraid if I reveal my affections too soon, Katniss will run away, and my heart can't handle that abandonment again. I love Katniss, but I'm too afraid of telling her. It's still nice to have that bubbling feeling back, though.

"It looks like the most pathetic excuse of a flower," she mutters bitterly in my lap. I laugh and take her hand that is holding my charcoal into mine.

"You just have to practice," I encourage, adding shading to her dandelion.

"I'm not an artist like you," she argues once we finish her drawing. "I mean, look at this." She motions toward the drawing. "It's only decent looking because you made it prettier. How do you do it?"

The way she's frowning, with her nose all scrunched up like that, I can't help but want her. I never knew I'd ever find someone scowling so attractive, but then again, there are things that only _Katniss _can possess, like scowling, that makes it the most hottest thing ever.

I set the charcoal down on the table and pick her up. She squeals in shock as we bound across the apartment for my bedroom. "Peeta!"

I toss her on my bed and climb over her, already ravaging kisses along her covered breasts and neckline. "A muse," is all I say as I begin to tug off her ratty T-shirt. She laughs when I hit her tickle spot and everything inside me screams at how attractive I find her, how aroused I am. I'm sure she notices.

Her hands find my face and she gently starts giving me kisses to calm my hormones. "Slow down, Mellark," Katniss laughs, giving me another kiss. "We can't go far until next week." I groan in protest but roll off her, always respecting her space when her baby timer is at a high. This woman is driving me crazy, though. Couldn't we risk it?

I groan again, knowing she'd kill me if I suggest it. "Sorry," I mutter, pulling the pillow over my face to hide my dirty thoughts. I feel her climb on top of me, resting her chin on my chest, and her soft laugher shakes my being, not helping kill my dirty thoughts at _all_. Katniss pulls the pillow off my face and tosses it across the room. Something crashes in the background, and I wonder how a huntress can have such poor aim sometimes.

"You have charcoal on your face," she laughs, running her blackened hand across my cheek.

"I wonder where I got that from," I tease, trying to focus on anything but where my thoughts want to go.

She runs her darkened thumb across my forehead and smiles. "Simba," is all she says before bursting into laughter again. I'm still amazed Katniss is a hidden Disney nerd, and I love her even more for it. She gives me a peck on the nose, and I can't handle it. I can't contain it.

I pounce, shocking her with an old wrestling move of mine as I flip her over and lay all my weight on her so she can't escape. A small giggle escapes her mouth as she wriggles beneath me, and I silence it with a kiss.

"Do you really believe you're a lion?" she questions once we are both able to breathe again.

"You called me Simba, didn't you?" I peck her lips teasingly before she can answer. "I'm a lion, hear me roar."

"You're an idiot," she says, rolling her eyes at me. I smile at the way she says those three words, almost as though they were _the _three words.

Yes, I'm certain I love this girl.

* * *

I want to tell her.

It's ready to fly off my tongue.

I love Katniss Everdeen, and I'm ready for the world to know it. No one, not even my friends, know my feelings about her.

I'm ready to tell her.

I want to tell her, but I'm not sure how.

I tried once, but that didn't go so well.

We were sitting on her roof, looking up at the night sky, trying to see the stars from here, when she points to a cluster of stars.

"My dad used to always make stories about the stars," she explains nostalgically. "And when I was younger, well, I wasn't really popular with kids my age." I twist my head towards her and our eyes meet. Her eyes look sad, tired, and I squeeze her hand in encouragement to continue. I know how much she avoids talking about her dad at all costs. "Well, when I was little, I would come home crying because the little girls used to tease me mercilessly," she remembers, looking back up at the sky, "and I would tell him how no one wanted to be my friend. He used to sit me down in his lap and tell me, 'Katniss, see that cluster of stars? It took those stars years to find each other, so don't lose hope. The friends who'll mean something just haven't found you yet.'" She laughs, shaking her head, her voice returning to normal. "It's silly, I know, but it always calmed me down. At least for a little bit."

"It's not silly," I argue. "It's cute." Her nose scrunches at the compliment and I tell her to take the compliment for once.

"I just don't feel I ever deserve them."

"Well," I say, "you deserve a lot more than a crummy compliment, but I'm a private business owner. There's only so much I can afford." She doesn't argue with me for once, and I'm grateful for that. I like complimenting her, and even though she has never admitted to liking them, I can see how her eyes light up when she receives them, and how her teeth pull at her bottom lip bashfully when I say something extra sweet. I know she secretly likes hearing them come from me, so I drop them whenever I can.

A gust of wind passes us and we both scoot closer for warmth. Her hair smells of strawberries and spring as it blows in my face, loose from its confinement, and I kiss her temple. Nights like these are some of my favorite with Katniss. She loves nature, appreciates it, and in the middle of a busy city, it's hard to remember there's an outside world that doesn't include concrete. It's calming despite the dogs barking below us, or sirens blaring two blocks from here.

It's nice because I'm with her, and lately she's been making everything nice, perfect.

"Do you want to go inside?" Katniss asks once the wind starts to become unbearable to sit in.

I shrug, get up from the table we're lying on, and help her down. She smiles, pushing long strands of black hair from out of her vision, and I hold her there, telling her not to move. She gives me a questioning look, but I quiet her with a kiss. It surprises her, but her arms wrap around my neck as she pulls me closer to her height. We break apart after a few blissful moments, smiling peacefully at each other, and I know this is the perfect moment to tell her I love her. We haven't fought in over two months, we've gotten closer since our last big fight, and I'm tired of keeping the secret to myself.

"Katniss," I start, feeling my insides start to turn with nerves.

"Yeah?"

"I..." _You can do this_, I chant to myself. Say it! "I..." Oh no. Something is stuck in my throat. Nothing is coming out. What is breathing? How do I speak?

She patiently waits, wondering where I'm going with this.

"Falafel," I spit out.

What.

The.

Hell?

_Falafel? _

What does that even _mean? _

Her calm expression turns into a confused one, with her eyebrow arching up in confusion. "...Excuse me?" We break apart, the moment ruined by my own stupidity. "Did you say _falafel_? What the hell is that?"

Good question.

My mind spins for an explanation because I sure as hell can't tell her I was going to tell her I love her.

"It's... It's a..." My mind racks for an explanation. "My dad used to make these crazy pastries. Falafels. They're really good," I lie, my face probably the shade of a strawberry.

She believes me, letting her body relax again. "Oh. Are they hard to make, because I'm starving."

"Nope, not hard at all."

She grabs my hand and leads us to the roof top door to go back to her apartment. "Let's make some, then, because I'm starving."

"Sure thing," I laugh, mentally kicking myself as we make our way down to her apartment to make the food.

What the hell, self?

_Falafel_?


End file.
